


Everything is quiet, now

by nofeartina



Series: Patience [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek Takes Care Of Stiles, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, POV Stiles, Post-Kidnapping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-15
Updated: 2016-04-15
Packaged: 2018-06-02 09:07:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6560407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nofeartina/pseuds/nofeartina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's finally Derek's turn to take care of Stiles.</p><p>And he's so good at it, too... </p><p>(2nd installment in my Patience-series, but can be read as a stand alone)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everything is quiet, now

**Author's Note:**

> I started out wanting to write smut, but then the feelings just took over, I'm not even really sure how this happened. These two just deserves all the feels...
> 
> This is actually the first thing I've ever written that wasn't smut, so I'm just as surprised as you!
> 
> But I'm sure the smut will happen eventually, just hang in there... :D
> 
> Please note that this differs from the first installment as this is Stiles' POV. Enjoy!

Everything is quiet. Too quiet. Derek is methodically stripping Stiles of the clothes of his upper body; first the jacket, then the plaid shirt and then the T-shirt. Stiles winces as the T-shirt is pulled over his head and Derek makes an angry sound that rumbles in his chest.

Derek inspects the wound on Stiles’ side, and then turns his attention to the angry claw marks down Stiles’ chest, just narrowly avoiding the nipple and Derek makes another angry sound at the sight. Derek pushes Stiles down onto the toilet, kneels between his legs and begins to clean his wounds.

Stiles is uncharacteristically quiet, letting Derek clean him up, only sound leaving him is quiet whimpers when the pain becomes too much. Derek’s veins turn black periodically, like he can’t decide if he’s too angry to drain the pain completely off Stiles.

When Stiles is patched up, with most of his torso covered in bandages, Derek finally sits back on his feet. He lets his eyes roam Stiles’ chest, seemingly appraising his work and when he has had his fill, he finally looks into Stiles’ eyes. It’s the first time Derek has looked directly into Stiles eyes since he was rescued. Stiles is in limbo. He wants to reach out and touch Derek, wants to cling to him desperately, but is afraid to. He understands Derek’s anger, knows that it’s not really directed at him. He knows that Derek wouldn’t hurt him, but Stiles is too overwhelmed with fatigue after what he’s been through, that he doesn’t quite know how to handle Derek like this.

Derek breaks the eye contact and puts his hands on Stiles’ hips. They turn into fists, clenching the fabric of Stiles’ jeans tight and Derek leans forward to put his forehead onto an unscathed place on Stiles’ chest, just below his clavicles. Derek’s breath washes hot and humid over Stiles’ bare skin, and Stiles can’t help but shiver at the feeling.

”Stiles…” is the first thing Derek says when he finally finds his voice again. It’s desperate and rough, like Derek is putting strain on himself just uttering that one word. And he doesn’t have to say anymore, Stiles knows how many feelings are conveyed with just that one word.

Stiles finally touches Derek, puts his one hand on Derek’s shoulder and the other on his neck, fingers caressing the small hairs there, and he lowers his head to Derek’s head, just resting his lips in Derek’s hair.

“I’m okay, big guy,” Stiles says in a low voice.

He can feel Derek’s body shudder under his hands. He lets Derek cling to him, and as he puts his head back to lean against the wall he closes his eyes and tries to control his thoughts. It’s like his head is on backwards, like it’s full of cotton, and he can’t think straight. He knows he’s been missing for a while, and he’s probably dehydrated and hungry and tired, since he doesn’t even know when he had water, food or sleep last. There are so many things to attend to that he’s completely overwhelmed, so he just keeps sitting there on the toilet, running his fingers slowly over Derek’s neck.

Derek seems content to just let Stiles sit there and pet him. Stiles knows that Derek is breathing him in, taking comfort in his scent. He knows he must _stink_ , but somehow that doesn’t seem to faze Derek.

The quiet is disturbed when Stiles’ stomach starts to growl. And immediately Stiles can feel how hungry and thirsty he really is, and his whole stomach feels like a big hole. Derek lets go of him reluctantly and leans back on his feet again.

“Let’s get some food and water in you,” he says, and finally gets up. He carefully puts his arm around Stiles’ waist and helps him into the kitchen.

\--------

Derek makes him a couple of sandwiches and leaves a big helping of chips on Stiles’ plate. Stiles demolishes the food, effectively just starting from one end of the plate, not stopping until everything is gone. Derek pushes the Gatorade towards him and urges him to drink the entire bottle.

Afterwards, when Stiles is sitting in front of an empty plate and an empty bottle, he feels like he is about to fall over from how tired he is.

Derek seems to sense this, and comes to help him into bed. As they start going up the stairs, the sheriff bangs open the door and immediately hones in on Stiles. He completely ignores Derek, goes straight to Stiles and envelopes him in a hug.

Derek is reluctant to let go of Stiles, and Stiles can feel him hover in the periphery during the hug. Stiles almost feel like crying as the smell of his dad reaches his nostrils and it really registers to him that he is home.

The sheriff slowly lets him go and looks him in the eyes. “Don’t you ever do that again, you hear?” he says in a teasing tone, which is really too serious to be teasing.

Stiles nods and repeats, “I’m okay, Dad.”

The sheriff finally looks at Derek and says, “I’ve got it from here. Thanks for bringing him home to me.”

Derek doesn’t leave. He shifts awkwardly and looks anxiously between the sheriff and Stiles. And even though Stiles is so, _so_ happy to see his dad, he really doesn’t feel like being separated from Derek. And it seems Derek feels the same way, like he physically cannot leave Stiles’ side.

“Dad,” Stiles says to grab his dad’s attention, “Derek is going to stay with me.” He doesn’t look away from his dad’s eyes, lets him see how much he needs this, how serious he really is.

The sheriff raises his eyebrows and turns his head to look at Derek. It’s easy to see the gears turning in his head. It’s no secret that Derek and Stiles are seeing each other. But they have never really flaunted it in front of him, and they’ve always downplayed how important they are to each other. Like they both know how dangerous it is to show the world that there is something they really care about.

But having just been through what they have, Stiles doesn’t want to downplay it anymore. If he gets taken anyway, he wants to show the world just how important Derek is to him.

The sheriff must see it in his eyes, sense how much he needs Derek as he takes a step back and nods. “Okay,” he says, “but just… Stay here. Don’t leave.”

And Derek visibly releases the tension in his entire body. Stiles can’t help but smile at his dad and grab Derek’s hand. The sheriff visibly notices, but doesn’t say anything, and Stiles is so grateful. That is a talk for another day.

They make it to the bed, and Derek helps Stiles with the rest of his clothes before he takes his own off as well.

They lie in bed, Stiles’ back to Derek’s chest, Derek breathing him in with his lips on Stiles’ neck, and Derek’s strong arms surrounding him. And for the first time in a while Stiles feels completely safe. He falls asleep within seconds.   

\------

Stiles wakes with a start. He’s panting and too warm and feels trapped, and the dream is still with him. He’s sure that he is still at the cave, still being held by the other werewolves, who doesn’t seem to care that he is human. He can still feel the fogginess in his brain from being kept awake and the hole in his stomach from hunger and the dryness in his throat from thirst.

Stiles sits up in bed, pushing Derek’s arm away with the movement, and tries to get his barring. He knows that he is in his room, he knows that Derek is with him, he _knows_ that he is safe now. It just doesn’t feel that way.

He looks down at Derek and to his surprise he finds that he is looking back. Stiles rubs his face hard with his hands, wanting to rub the dream away. It doesn’t really help. Instead he makes the conscious decision to get back in bed, to burrow real close to Derek who immediately accepts him into his arms, and lets Derek take care of him. Like they both need to right now.

They stay quiet. There’s so much to be said that they have a hard time talking. Even though time passes, neither falls back asleep, relieved to be able to hold each other again.

“I knew you would come,” Stiles finally says, “you always do.”

Derek makes this strangled sound in his throat, and when he speaks he sounds _wrecked_ , “I was too late.”

This makes Stiles pull back from Derek enough to look him in the eyes, “No, Derek. I’m right here,” he says, and takes Derek’s hand to put it against his chest so he can feel his heart beating. “This was not your fault. You got me out, okay?”

Derek stares at his hand on Stiles chest, and then finally diverts his eyes to look Stiles in the eyes like he can’t believe that Stiles’ heart didn’t spell out _lie_ for him. Derek looks like he could fall apart any moment from guilt, but his eyes shine with hope.

“But this was my fault, Stiles,” Derek says quietly, “if you didn’t smell like me, then they wouldn’t have taken you.”

Stiles wants to flail and shout at Derek a bit, but he knows that he needs to do the opposite. The guilt is such a big part of Derek now and it is hard to change his mindset. But Stiles _needs_ Derek to understand this, or else Stiles is afraid what Derek might do out of a false sense of obligation to keep him safe.

“Then I would have smelled like Scott,” Stiles says and puts his hand on Derek’s cheek to keep him grounded. Derek leans into the touch, and Stiles continues, “I don’t really think they cared either way. “

He takes a deep breath before he whispers with a shaky voice, “ I’m not sure I would have been rescued if you weren’t there.”

And Derek closes his eyes at this, like he can’t bear to think about this. What would have happened if they hadn’t gotten Stiles out in time. Sure he’s worse for wear, but it’s nothing that some rest, food and TLC won’t fix.

Derek puts his arms around Stiles and pulls him into him. Stiles squeezes back just as tightly, like they want to crawl into each other. Derek whispers into his ear, “I love you…”

And Stiles fights back the tears that threaten to spill at this. It’s been a while since Stiles said it to Derek for the first time, completely aware of the fact that he probably wouldn’t hear it back for a while, or maybe ever. Even if he knows that Derek feels the same way. Stiles knows it in his heart, he knows it from how Derek kisses him, how Derek touches him, how Derek looks at him.

But it’s _so_ nice to hear it back.

He hugs Derek impossible closer to him and says, “I love you too.”

 


End file.
